Sugar And Spice (Holidays: Valentine)

by Charlotte French

  “I haven’t seen you since you were a chubby little kid,” he said. “Sure grew into all that baby fat, didn’t you?”

  “Thank god for that,” Quinn replied.

  “What brought you back to our little backwater? Didn’t you run off after some pretty little…?”

  Quinn cast a quick glance in Crissy’s direction, a look that Crissy might have taken for panic except she’d never thought Quinn was capable of it. He’d been so calm in the face of that fire. She couldn’t imagine him panicking over anything.

  “Just blowing off steam,” Quinn said, a little hurriedly. “You know, travel the world, see the sights, do stupid things to regret later when you’re older.”

  Mr. Scott nodded, looking him up and down. “Well, you’re not that round-faced boy anymore. A proper man now, seems to me.”

  “Quinn has offered to help with fixing the stove,” Crissy put in.

  Mr. Scott clapped him on the shoulder as they trouped into the kitchen. “How long have you been back in town anyway, Quinn? I don’t get out much these days but sure thought I would have heard something at least now that you’re doing handyman work.”

  Quinn set the tools on the counter and tugged the stove out far enough so that he could slip behind it.

  “I’ve only been in town for a few months,” he replied. “And I’m working at the fire station two blocks down the street. Probably why you haven’t heard much about it. Besides, this little job is only for Crissy,” he added with a sideways glance in Crissy’s direction as he pulled a flashlight and a wrench out of his bag.

  She bit her lip and ducked her head to hide her smile.

  Mr. Scott nodded. “You always did like them big fire trucks when you were a kid. And your girlfriend?”

  A clink and clatter of metal was followed by a muttered curse from Quinn.

  “You okay?” Crissy asked.

  Quinn nodded as he rose and wormed his way out from behind the stove.

  “Dropped my wrench,” he said. “Where’s the breaker panel? Electricity has to be turned off before I can disconnect the wiring and replace it.”

  Crissy pointed to the cabinet on the far side of the kitchen. Mr. Scott nudged her with an elbow as Quinn became focused on switching the electricity off.

  “Always did that when he was a boy,” he said. “Changed the subject and got busy when he didn’t want to answer a sticky question.”

  Crissy frowned and started to ask what he meant but Amy’s arrival cut her off.

  “Sorry I’m late to the party,” she said, tugging off her scarf. “Good morning, Mr. Scott,” she added with a kiss to the old man’s cheek.

  Mr. Scott flushed pink and waved her off. “Quinn, what’s the final verdict then?” he asked, his voice gruff.

  “Well,” Quinn sighed. “It looks like I’ll have to do some rewiring which won’t be a problem but the shop will be without electricty for half of the day at least.”

  “There’s a battery operated space heater under the counter,” Amy offered. “The heating is already pretty spotty around here. And we’ve got plenty of leftovers to keep the place open for a day.”

  “And the stove?” Crissy asked.

  Quinn shrugged. “Hate to say it, but it looks like it’s on its last leg. I could get the parts to have it up and running again in…a day or two maybe. But honestly? In the long run, you’re better off getting a new stove.”

  Mr. Scott chuckled and elbowed Crissy. “I knew it. Well, I suppose you don’t need this grumpy old man in your way anymore now that you’ve sorted everything out.”

  “Would you like a ride home, Mr. Scott?” Amy offered. “Manu left me with the car for the day.”

  “Walking is good for my bones. It’ll give me an excuse to get away from that damned television for a little while. Crissy, my girl, you’re in good hands with that Quinn. He’s got much more patience for these things than I ever did. And my credit card is on the table whenever you need it. No holding back now. Consider it a raise of sorts.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Scott,” Crissy said. “That’s very generous of you.”

  “Generous, ha. I’ve got no grandkids so you unlucky bunch get to suffer my company. Quinn, you take care of yourself and my girls. I don’t want to hear that you’ve burned the place down around their ears. I’ll bring a couple of beers by the station over the weekend as an excuse to heckle you some more with questions you don’t want to answer.” He laughed to himself as he shuffled out the door, the tiny bell over the door jingling softly as he left.

  “You got him all flustered again, Amy,” Crissy said.

  Amy grinned and jumped up to sit on the counter, her legs swinging back and forth, her boots beating a steady rhythm against the cabinets.

  “He likes it,” she said. “It’s the kiss on the cheek. Gets him every time. Why do you think he skedaddles as soon as I do it? His face was pink as a peach.”

  Amy jerked her chin at Quinn.

  “Hey,” she said.

  Quinn paused, eyebrows raised in a silent question.

  “I believe we got off on the wrong foot. But I’m not sorry I threatened you ‘cause…you know…Crissy’s my best friend in the entire world and if you hurt her, I’ll kill you, so…clean slate?”

  Crissy closed her eyes and sighed. “Amy, that’s not…”

  “No bones about it, sugar. Better get used to it,” Amy said, then stuck her hand out to Quinn.

  “Sounds fair enough to me,” Quinn replied and shook Amy’s hand.

  He started to move past Crissy towards the stove again. She caught his wrist and he stopped. She held his arm out, turned him left, right, then left again. She circled around him, her hand trailing around his waist before she returned to face him again.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Trying to figure out where all that baby fat disappeared to,” she said. “You were a chubby kid? I find that hard to believe.”

  Quinn rolled his eyes. “I was as round as I was tall. Pete got me onto the wrestling team with him in high school. Then I grew a couple inches and the big kids stopped picking on me because suddenly I could beat their asses.”

  “You’re too nice for that,” Crissy replied.

  Quinn shrugged. “Even the nicest people have their limits.” He picked up his wrench again and gestured at Amy. “Your best friend there is proof of that I think. Tiny yet terrifying.”

  Amy beamed. “You better believe it. We’re already getting off to a better start. I like it.”

  “So,” Quinn said, working his way behind the stove again to continue working on the electrical socket. “Did I hear the boss left a credit card at your disposal?”

  “He only does it for any expenses related to running the shop,” Crissy said.

  Quinn shot her a small smile over his shoulder. “He must be a remarkably trusting man. Or he doesn’t realize the damage you could cause with that kind of freedom. I wish my boss did that every once in a while.”

  Amy snorted. “That’s why the old man always puts it in Crissy’s care and not mine. I can’t even convince her to buy an ice-cream cone on his money.”

  Quinn ducked his head but not before Crissy caught the smile on his face.

  “Why does that not surprise me?” Quinn replied.

  Amy bounced off the counter and headed out of the kitchen. “I’ll get that heater set up before it gets too cold in here. Crissy, do we have any candles left? I’ll put them up in the front windows.”

  “In my room upstairs,” she said. “Under my bed.”

  After Amy left, Crissy leaned against the counter next to the stove and attempted to peer over Quinn’s shoulder as he worked but she couldn’t see much. The area was small and Quinn’s shoulders were broad, taking up every inch of space available.

  “Show must go on kind of thing?” Quinn asked. “Won’t close up shop no matter what?”

  Crissy shrugged. “Sort of like that. I have bills to pay and as long as the shop is closed, I’m not gettin
g paid. Mr. Scott probably would pay me just because he doesn’t want to lose me as his one and only cook but…”

  “You wouldn’t feel right about that if you’re not working for your wages,” he finished for her. “I get that.”

  Crissy drummed her hands on the counter. She was so used to being the only one in this tiny kitchen, claiming it as hers even though she didn’t technically own it. And now that she had no oven at her disposal, she couldn’t cook. And she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had someone who wasn’t Amy or Mr. Scott in this kitchen. She never ever brought anyone else back here.

  “How long do you think delivery will take for the stove?” she asked.

  Quinn stood, wiped his hands on his jeans and pointed to the duffle bag at her feet. “Could you hand me that box of screws?”

  She dug around, found a clear plastic container of screws and handed them to him. He paused, counting on his fingers.

  “A couple weeks at least,” he said. “Provided the weather holds. And at this time of year out here…”

  “Snowstorms every other day practically,” Crissy said, her words heavy with disappointment.

  “But if you had a car with four wheel drive, that wouldn’t be a problem. You could pick it up yourself and get back to baking within one week, tops.”

  “I don’t have a car though. I walk everywhere.”

  “I do. A truck.”

  Crissy tipped her head to the side. “Are you offering to go shopping for stoves with me?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. Unless that’s one of those chef’s secrets I’m not supposed to know about.”

  She considered for a moment. “No, no secret. I’d be happy to have company.”

  “Then why do you look like you’re plotting something?”

  Crissy grinned. “Call it a date and you’ve got a deal.”

  Quinn’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

  She nodded.

  “Will there be turnovers at some point in this date?”

  Her smile grew even bigger if that was possible. “Probably. Just have to pick the flavor.”

  He stuck his hand out and she shook it. “Deal.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Amy was almost teary-eyed when Crissy told her after Quinn left at the end of the day.

  “My best friend, my sweet little cupcake has a date,” Amy said. “Praise the lord.”

  “Shut up.”

  “So what do you have planned on this wonderful date with this wonderful man?”

  Crissy hesitated. “Shopping for stoves.”

  Amy slouched against the counter. “My god, sugar, you sure know how to have fun.”

  Crissy beamed. “Just because you would be bored doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy myself. You can try to rain on my parade all you want. I don’t care.”

  “I’m not raining on your parade. It’s just…not what I had in mind.”

  Crissy glared. “I know what you have in mind and I don’t want to hear it.”

  Amy pouted.

  “Don’t give me that look.”

  Amy pouted harder.

  “I’m ignoring you.”

  Amy sighed. “Okay fine. I’ll be adult. But I don’t have to like it. So…does Quinn think this will be fun?”

  Crissy shrugged. “Maybe. He was the one who offered to take me. He saw how disappointed I was that we’d have to close up shop until the stove arrived and that could take weeks. So he said he’d take me.”

  “Aw. That’s so disgustingly sweet I’m going to vomit.”

  “Not in my kitchen you won’t.”

  “All right, let me be serious for a second here, sugar,” Amy said, crossing her arms. “Are you really okay with this?”

  Crissy pulled out a Tupperware from the refrigerator filled with leftover bagels and started to take inventory. She shrugged.

  “Sure I am. I thought you’d be happy about this?”

  “Oh, believe me, I’m over the moon. But I’ve always had to talk you into these things.”

  Crissy handed a blueberry bagel over to Amy and chose a cinnamon swirl one for herself.

  “It felt right when I asked him and…”

  “Wait…you asked him out? You never said that.”

  Crissy smirked. “Well I did.”

  Amy raised her eyebrows. “Flirty Crissy. That’s something I could get used to very quickly.” She waved a piece of her bagel in Crissy’s direction. “And I bet Quinn would totally agree with me.”

  ***

  Quinn arrived the next morning, driving a massive red pick-up truck. Crissy waited in the warmth of the shop, her nose practically pressed against the window as she watched for him. She didn’t care if it made her look desperate. She was too jittery with a mix of excitement, nerves, and an overload of caffeine to care.

  Quinn tapped his horn twice as he pulled up alongside the curb. Crissy tucked her nose beneath her scarf and ducked out into the icy cold wind. Quinn jumped out, pulled the passenger door open and offered his hand to her.

  “It’s kind of a big climb up into the cab, I know,” he said. “I used to keep a step in the back but it seems someone took off with it.”

  “Any ideas as to the culprit?”

  “Oh definitely. He’s short and never stops grinning like an idiot. Also, his name starts with P.”

  Crissy laughed. “That seems awfully specific.”

  She took his hand and he helped her climb into the cab of the truck where the heater was already blazing, full force. She was all too keenly aware of Quinn’s close proximity, the warmth radiating from him. He placed his free hand on her back, shielding her from the wind with his body before he closed the door. Two minutes into her date and she already had something to tell Amy that would send her into a fit of happiness. By the end of the day, she should have enough “juicy little details” to practically make Amy pass out from sheer joy.

  Fingers crossed at least.

  When Quinn returned to his seat, he adjusted the heating vents and glanced at her.

  “Warm enough?” he asked.

  She nodded, shedding her gloves and pressing her hands to the vents. “I don’t leave the shop much these days. I forgot how cold it gets out here.”

  “So why do you stay?”

  Crissy raised her eyebrows. “Pardon?”

  “I mean here, in Breckenridge. Colorado is always cold. You hardly catch a break in the summer.”

  She shrugged. “It’s pretty and the people are nice.”

  He cast a knowing sideways look at her as he pulled out onto the street. “And Amy lives here.”

  “That too. We grew up together. Practically sisters.” She paused as a memory came bubbling to the surface. “You grew up around here, didn’t you? What makes you stay?”

  “Family,” he said without a beat of hesitation. “I want to see my nieces and nephews grow up first hand. I want to be there for them as much as I can. As long as I bundle up, I don’t mind the cold anyway. Just means I can sharpen my snowball fighting abilities.”

  Now it was Crissy’s turn to peg Quinn with a knowing look. When she didn’t respond immediately, Quinn glanced at her then did a double-take.

  “What?” he said.

  “How many times have you nailed Pete in the face with a snowball?”

  Quinn burst out laughing. Crissy watched him, the way his head tipped back, the way his entire face lit up. And she glowed with the realization that she had made him laugh like that.

  ***

  There weren’t many options for shopping in Breckenridge and it would take at least an hour and a half to reach Denver, the first city with any kind of shopping center. But the drive felt like it lasted only a few minutes as Crissy and Quinn settled into a comfortable routine, talking about their families, their jobs, what it was like growing up in Colorado.

  When they reached the Sears parking lot, Crissy hesitated.

  “This part will probably be pretty boring for you,” she said. “If you want to meet me back here in an hour,
I wouldn’t mind.”

  Quinn slid his hands in his pockets and nodded. “So you know the dimensions you’ll need for the stove to fit in your kitchen and everything?”

  Crissy’s eyes widened and she spun around, looking out over the parking lot.

  “Oh no,” she whispered. “I didn’t…”

  Quinn chuckled and she turned on him. He held up a piece of paper full of scribbled pencil markings.

  “Got ‘em right here,” he said. “I thought I’d take them down when I was fixing your wiring.”

  Crissy pressed her hands over her mouth, closed her eyes, and breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Oh my god, thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said. And before she even knew what she was doing, she had placed her hands on his chest, rose up on tiptoe, and kissed his cheek.

  Quinn raised his eyebrows. A heartbeat of silence pounded between them. Then Crissy realized what she’d just done and her face flushed. But she didn’t step away from him.

  “Thank you,” she said again. “I didn’t even think about it. I should have known.”

  He lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. “You have enough to worry about. I got you covered.”

  As they walked into the building, Quinn’s arm bumped against Crissy’s shoulder. He mumbled an apology and took a giant step to the side, putting much more space between them than was necessary. Crissy frowned but let it pass. For now.

  Crissy was completely overwhelmed with the choices of stoves available. Some were basic. Others held so many bells and whistles and touch pads that it felt more like a spaceship than a stove.

  “I just need something that will make cookies without burning every other batch,” she sighed.

  Quinn, however, was not overwhelmed with any of the choices available. He pointed at the most expensive stove available.

  “That one,” he said.

  “But the price tag….”

  “Your boss is paying for it, Crissy. Take advantage of that. It doesn’t happen often.”

  Before she could continue protesting, Quinn pointed out all the qualities of a stove that she’d been dreaming about since she could bake.

  “The tag says it will hold five baking sheets,” he said. “And you can cook at two different temperatures. Think about that, Crissy. Think of how many cookies and pies and turnovers you can make with that.”